The drabblesque-ganza 4
A drabble and a drabble+ for your Sundays.
Characters: Sarah Connor
Rating: PG
Warnings: implied violence
Spoilers: 2.6 and earlier.
Word Count: 100
Disclaimer: Owned by persons not me.
Summary: Sarah's thoughts in the fight with Sarkissian.
Air
Her chest is pounding. She’s watching, gasping silently, looking at her son. She can’t breathe. The black leather jacket feels like it’s suffocating her. Can’t breathe. He’s been her air for so long and now he’s about to be extinguished... by himself.
Can only watch. The men grapple in a flurry of fight or flight. Her son is a man. She missed it. She wants to stop him, wants to keep him away from Sarkissian. Stop John from doing what survival tells him to do.
She should do it. She’s the mother. Mothers are the ones who sacrifice.
Not sons.
Characters: Angel/Wes
Rating: PG
Warnings: uhh, mpreg.
Spoilers: AU, no spoilers.
Word Count: 175
Disclaimer: Owned by persons not me.
Summary: Angel likes preparing food for Wesley.
Apples
He makes sure to slice the apples in wide chunks so that they’ll actually scoop out the dipping foods that Angel’s already laid out: peanut butter, melted chocolate, caramel, even some extra sharp cheddar.
Everything smells and looks delicious as he lays out each item on the tray, each dipper in its own crucible, each color exciting and fresh to Angel’s eyes, just how he hopes they’ll be to Wesley.
Wesley, who is pregnant and craving everything in sight. He said he’d never do it again after the first mystical pregnancy, but it looks like they’re going to need some mystical birth control because Wesley’s as round and ripe as the apples Angel’s just held in his hand.
Angel loves seeing him pregnant. Wesley looks beautiful and full of hope, full of humanity, the future. Angel hopes the apples will suffice as only a small token of how pleased and happy Angel is at this turn of events. And how much he loves Wesley, plump with their daughter or as skinny as he’s always been.
Characters: Sarah Connor
Rating: PG
Warnings: implied violence
Spoilers: 2.6 and earlier.
Word Count: 100
Disclaimer: Owned by persons not me.
Summary: Sarah's thoughts in the fight with Sarkissian.
Air
Her chest is pounding. She’s watching, gasping silently, looking at her son. She can’t breathe. The black leather jacket feels like it’s suffocating her. Can’t breathe. He’s been her air for so long and now he’s about to be extinguished... by himself.
Can only watch. The men grapple in a flurry of fight or flight. Her son is a man. She missed it. She wants to stop him, wants to keep him away from Sarkissian. Stop John from doing what survival tells him to do.
She should do it. She’s the mother. Mothers are the ones who sacrifice.
Not sons.
Characters: Angel/Wes
Rating: PG
Warnings: uhh, mpreg.
Spoilers: AU, no spoilers.
Word Count: 175
Disclaimer: Owned by persons not me.
Summary: Angel likes preparing food for Wesley.
Apples
He makes sure to slice the apples in wide chunks so that they’ll actually scoop out the dipping foods that Angel’s already laid out: peanut butter, melted chocolate, caramel, even some extra sharp cheddar.
Everything smells and looks delicious as he lays out each item on the tray, each dipper in its own crucible, each color exciting and fresh to Angel’s eyes, just how he hopes they’ll be to Wesley.
Wesley, who is pregnant and craving everything in sight. He said he’d never do it again after the first mystical pregnancy, but it looks like they’re going to need some mystical birth control because Wesley’s as round and ripe as the apples Angel’s just held in his hand.
Angel loves seeing him pregnant. Wesley looks beautiful and full of hope, full of humanity, the future. Angel hopes the apples will suffice as only a small token of how pleased and happy Angel is at this turn of events. And how much he loves Wesley, plump with their daughter or as skinny as he’s always been.